It's funny how I can go for years without needlework but then it blossoms back into my life and I can't live without it. The crochet hook between my fingers, the yarn moving through them, keeping it taut (or trying to). Seeing a skein of wool become an afghan.
Crocheting siphons off energy that would otherwise become rumination or worry. Crocheting calms and soothes. I'm due for another project. Another blanket, two colors at least. One of them pink.